Fugitive lived secret life for 17 years before surrendering

Paul Sanzaro, 79, formerly of Hollywood, was sentenced to two years in federal… (BSO/Handout )

December 14, 2012|By Paula McMahon, Sun Sentinel

After 17 years on the run from federal charges and dodging an organized crime contract on his life, Paul Sanzaro wearied of hiding and yearned to meet his grandchildren for the first time.

The 79-year-old former Hollywood man got an ultimatum from one of his daughters: He had to turn himself in and make things right if he ever wanted to see his grandchildren.

His troubles began in January 1995 when Sanzaro sold 15 pounds of cocaine to an undercover agent at Sanzaro's Hollywood apartment. The agent paid him with a gym bag filled with rocks instead of the $119,000 that Sanzaro — or more importantly, his bosses — expected.

"[The gunman] restrained Mr. Sanzaro with duct tape, placed a gun in his mouth, and threatened to kill him if he did not come up with $120,000 for the cocaine within ten days," defense lawyers Bruce Lyons and Murray Richman wrote.

A few weeks later, two armed men threatened his life and again demanded payment on the debt.

Then government agents called Sanzaro to a meeting and warned him there was a contract out on his life.

Sanzaro fled and went into hiding – eight months before he and seven co-defendants were indicted. The feds said he was part of a drug-dealing organized crime group that operated out of the old Hemmingway's Restaurant on North 21st Avenue in Hollywood.

Few people knew where he was for the next 17 years until he contacted his lawyers and turned himself in at the federal courthouse in Fort Lauderdale in July.

Authorities conceded they weren't actively looking for him, though there was a warrant for his arrest, and said it was unlikely he'd have been caught if he hadn't surrendered.

Sanzaro's lawyers said he hadn't seen his two daughters since 1994 and has never met his five grandchildren.

Sanzaro and his family turned down interview requests, but court records offer some insight into his many years as a fugitive.

"For most of those years, Mr. Sanzaro lived in hiding with his older sister, Grace, in Saddle Brook, N.J., still fearing for his life. When Grace died in late 2010, Mr. Sanzaro went to live with different friends in central and northern New Jersey. Through all those years, Mr. Sanzaro never collected Social Security, never used his Medicare benefits, never saw his children or grandchildren, and never even saw a doctor," the lawyers wrote.

Sanzaro couldn't risk getting a normal job but worked "off the books" as a grocery store clerk, always worrying that a contract killer – or the feds – would find him, they said. He was able to go out and didn't wear a disguise, they said, but it was a tough existence.

"He had no life, he spent his whole life looking over his shoulder," said Richman, a Bronx, N.Y., lawyer known as "Don't Worry Murray" who represents many mafia and celebrity clients.

"He couldn't see his family, he couldn't see his friends," Richman said. "The family members he was with died and he was alone. All he wanted was the opportunity to be reunited with his daughters and to get to meet his grandkids."

In September, Sanzaro pleaded guilty to participating in a cocaine supply conspiracy and faced about five years in prison. But at his sentencing Friday in Fort Lauderdale, his lawyers said he had suffered a lot and committed no crimes since 1994.

"I accept full responsibility for what I done, I'm naturally sorry. I want to see my family," Sanzaro told U.S. District Judge William Dimitrouleas.

Prosecutors said Sanzaro's offense was serious but left it to the judge to decide how much prison time he deserved. All these years later, investigators still have the drugs in evidence and the case could have gone to trial, though they said it would have been an expensive endeavor.

Sanzaro wept with relief when the judge ruled that two years in federal prison was sufficient punishment.

"God bless you," Sanzaro told the judge as he dabbed his tears with handcuffed hands.